


Flowers in our hair

by AbelsGrave



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Dae is a god, Flowers, Fluff and Angst, Gods, Lots and Lots of Flowers, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Which is surprising, i cant tag bye, youngjae is the prince of flowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-23 08:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11985627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbelsGrave/pseuds/AbelsGrave
Summary: Youngjae loved the winter flowers. The bright sunsets and calendulas, the dainty snowdrops and winter aconites that helped his mother deliver him into this world, when the wind was unkind and strong and she was all alone among them. But they murmured sweet words and promises to her and kissed her full belly and cheeks and thus he was born, the Prince of Flowers.





	Flowers in our hair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnEndlessFire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnEndlessFire/gifts), [stigmafermata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stigmafermata/gifts), [awarinside](https://archiveofourown.org/users/awarinside/gifts).



> I just wanted to tell a very simple story. I haven't written anything in a very, very long time, and it probably shows. 
> 
> Please, note that English is not my native language. I truly did my best.

They said that the many kings and queens of flowers served the flowers as much as the flowers served them. They served them in death, when their decaying bodies nourished their colored friends. And there was no sadness in it, only a privilege and a meaning to their lives said the many kings and queens to their children. If their bodies was food, their souls were protectors of the realm. This was what the Gods made them to be, those kings and queens of flowers.

Youngjae loved the winter flowers. The bright sunsets and calendulas, the dainty snowdrops and winter aconites that helped his mother deliver him into this world, when the wind was unkind and strong and she was all alone among them. But they murmured sweet words and promises to her and kissed her full belly and cheeks and thus he was born, the Prince of Flowers. The people of the realm wore daphne’s and red river lilies in their hair to welcome him. They had not had a winter prince in over three centuries, recounted some of them.   
The joy of the winter flowers was so high that the goddess of the season heard it, their soft chants transported by the dancing snow. Intrigued, she came to see him, one night. She came and awed at his delicate features, and she kissed the sleeping child on his eyelids. The next day, it was rumored that the Queen found a still sleeping fawn in the crib where she left her son to sleep.

 

Youngjae sat under the Russian sage and lavender, exhausted from the heat and all the tossing around he did in his room. The gentle rain dripped on his fur and on his nose and he pleasantly shivered.   
  
“Your mother will worry, you know that the rain can be dangerous at night,” murmured the sleepy Russian sage, tilting towards him.

“My room’s too hot,” he complained before yawning. “Besides, she will only worry if she notices.”

“Youngjae,” sighed the Russian sage with tender exasperation. “At least, don’t forget to wash your paws before stepping into the castle.”

“I won’t.”

The Russian sage sighed a second time, too tired to fight with the young prince. The lavender murmured something about the night and the rain being dangerous and other tales that the world told him so many times before already but Youngjae was already drifting away, lulled by the sweet smell of his friends.

 

The next morning, he entered the castle, muddy paws and muddy nose – he had a habit of playing with the gardener’s kids whenever he saw them and the Russian sage forgot to remind him to wash himself – and unfortunately, for him, the Queen caught him while he was hurrying into his room. She was sitting on his bed, composing a tiny flower crown with baby’s breaths, berries and eucalyptus that filled the room with its strong and fresh fragrance. It tinkled the back of his throat. She wore a pale yellow dress and daisies in her black hair. Tiredness was at the sides of her lips.

“The doe eyes won’t work, my son,” she warned. “Flowers will protect you, but they can’t do much against the saddest of rains.”

Youngjae would have tried to argue with her and prove her that nothing bad could happen to him – the rain was mostly gentle, and it was just too hot in this room when spring was dying. However, it was pointless for her mother’s fear would never cease. She loved him, would say the lilies, and love sometimes came with worry.

“Now,” she started before getting up. “Go wash yourself and please, don’t do that again.”

She crouched down to him to place the crown on his little fawn head.

“Winter both blessed and cursed me.”

 

He did as he was told, his mother was not a strict woman, but she was a summer child; explosive and unforgiving at times. Youngjae knew better than to anger her. The sun was high and already scorching hot, even the stones of the castle struggled to keep the cool in. The end of Spring was harsh on them, when the Kingdom near them was approaching its High Season. He knew that his father was in the garden, biding goodbyes to the earth children that did not continue blooming throughout summer.   
That morning, the castle faintly smelled of salt. He smiled.  
When he entered the living room, a young man, a few years older than him, with silver hair and a striking smile, was playing with their dog on the floor.

“Ah, here is my kid,” smiled Himchan when he saw him. “I heard that you keep making your parents worry by sleeping in the forest at night.”

Youngjae crossed his arms. “Here he is, the King of Gossip.”

“I’m only a Prince,” corrected Himchan before kissing the dog on its head and getting up. “Also, remember when you used to bribe flowers so they’d tell you the secrets of your loyal subjects?”

Not missing a beat, Youngjae replied. “You were glad when they heard Yongguk tell Junhong how madly in love he’s with you.”

The pretty pink of zinnias colored Himchan’s cheeks, although, it was not truly shyness, more of a pleasant warmth from the reminder. Youngjae laughed, “It’s been three years, Himchan. You’re getting married.”

The smile on Himchan’s lips told him otherwise. The Kingdom of the Sea was marrying his young prince to one of the night sky goddess’ children. It was a rare thing, to see a god fall in love with a mortal – especially night gods who were known to shy away from mortals. It was also no ordinary act, loving and being united to a god; humans would gain immortality and sometimes, it was too much to bear.  
Quiet Yongguk fell for Himchan’s vibrancy the first time they met. When the two reckless princes – they still were, if you asked their parents -  escaped their respective homes for a midnight walk in the forest. Why, they never really found a solid answer to that. They just wanted to, maybe because they weren’t supposed to. That was a good enough reason for the both of them. However, it was a fall night, leaning on winter, and they did not foresee the cold and the sad rain and the pitch-blackness of the forest. How could they have known, they never took a midnight walk there. Disoriented and teeth shattering, they walked and walked between trees that were too old and thus too deaf to hear Youngjae’s questions. At one point, Himchan and him heard faint voices and muffled cries.

“Well then, since your tall ass friends are too old to hear us, let’s ask real people,” had said Himchan and Youngjae went along with it, not without warning Himchan to watch his mouth because, yes, truth be told, the trees were a bit ancient, but they could sense disrespect through their thick bark.

The voices led them to a river, and there, sitting on wet grass, were three boys, seemingly unbothered by the rain for it was not touching them. Two of them seemed to be holding the third one. Himchan suddenly stopped, taken aback by something. The wind blew a cold menacing blow, biting on Youngjae’s bones – he was getting so tired. There was no time for late panic and hesitations – and what was Himchan staring at so intently, he asked himself under his breath – so he had marched towards them.

“Hi, we’re lost, do you know how we can get out of here?”

The three boys had stopped talking. Each of them looked at him with wide eyes until Himchan broke the silence. He approached, pushed him aside, and crouched near the youngest one whose face, hit by the moonlight, was drenched in sparkly tears. Then he said, concerned, “Hey, why are you crying, kid?”

Youngjae had asked, while he and Yongguk were resting in the forest, a few days before Yongguk proposed to Himchan, why he loved him so much. The kind god had laughed this pure and slightly higher laugh than his natural deep rich voice.

“There's a million reason, but remember when we met and he asked Junhong why he was crying?” Youngjae nodded next to him, and he found it funny how the night sky god was basking in the soft spring sun with him, “Well, wouldn’t that make you love someone?”

Those few words did not make a lot of sense to Youngjae at first and he frowned. Yongguk did not say much – he never did say much, after all.   
It was a few days later, when Himchan asked him, all seriousness on his face and what appeared to be waves of worry in his eyes, which flowers he should pick for his heartbroken sister, that Youngjae understood what Yongguk had meant. Sea people were spirited and playful, tempestuous and unpredictable. Too charming and almost, almost, dangerous.  They were, nevertheless, caring and wise, stretched themselves to extents that no living ever could imagine of because they genuinely loved the livings.   
  
“Jongup and Junhong are waiting for us near the cherry trees,” said Himchan, taking him away from the memories. “They’re the only ones allowed to see Yongguk before the wedding. I miss him. I want news.”

“Let’s race, then!” Youngjae said with excitement.

“And may I ask why?”

“Aren’t you excited to hear about Yongguk,” Youngjae nagged him. “Are you afraid to lose with those tired legs?”

Himchan huffed, then looked at the door and smirked before sprinting through the castle halls. The sea prince was fast, but he still went on two human legs. When a fawn overtook him, Himchan yelled that it was cheating.

 

The crowd was huge, noticed Youngjae when he and his family arrived. So many heads that Youngjae did not recognize were surrounding the place. There were tall women and men whose skins seemed to glisten under that unforgiving sun – spring was dying so fast. Junhong was among them, high and beautiful in his dark blue gown that scintillated like a starry night.  
Not far from them, the kids of the Moon were quietly taking place, all sharp bones and bright white gowns, so painfully ethereal that Youngjae caught himself staring more than once. Jongup was scanning the crowd with a confused expression until Youngjae started jumping up and down, waving at him.   
Night gods and entities in broad daylight were a funny sight. It was not that they hated daylight, but they were night people, accustomed to sleepy breaths, having space and silences that allowed them to talk in calm voices or sing lullabies that made the world fall asleep but made their hearts leap in joy. Jongup looked bored and alone. Youngjae wished he could join his friends.   
All kingdoms were gathered to celebrate Himchan and Yongguk’s wedding. His father told him that it was a tradition, almost a rule: if a god married a mortal prince or princess, all kingdoms were to attend the ceremony to congratulate the new couple and offer presents.

“See it as a reminder,” said his mother. She was brushing her hair. “That gods and us are all part of a same world, no matter who created who. We all need each other.”

His father agreed, putting a crown of graceful black and moss roses on his head. 

He did not know if all gods were a blessing. Only that Yongguk surely was for his serene and comforting love, the encouraging words that sounded like protections. And Jongup was, for his weird witty jokes, mesmerizing dances that made water absorb the moonlight and shine an electric blue. And Junhong was, when he blew star powder on flowers so that Youngjae could make beautiful crowns out of them.   
The wedding was taking place in the Sea kingdom, for mortals were to host gods.

“It’s better like that,” had confessed Himchan’s mother to Youngjae’s. “I was not going to marry my son in complete darkness. I’m pretty sure he would have tripped with excitement on his way to the aisle.”

Youngjae sat between his parents, not far away from his friends’ families. They were in the castle’s garden, which, in fact, was a beach. But there laid the finest and softest sand, the clearest of waters. Youngjae had the privilege of bathing here, when summer was harsh on his skin and mind. He could talk with sea plants, although their tongue was more difficult to understand at first. He even found flowers that loved the seaside, the sandy soils and salty air. His mother’s flowers were a bit jealous of them. When he acted too brave and disrespectful, Himchan would ask the gentle water to make waves, but the water had a mind of its own and did not always do as it was told.   
  
The night and sea people were sitting together, across from them, while Youngjae’s were next to the Forest kids. Youngjae’s family offered to decorate the garden. Hundreds of flowers had been braided to make a canopy that sheltered the guests from the sun. Youngjae looked up to see interlaced branches of redbuds showing off in an explosion of pink flowers.  His people added sweet lilacs and white daffodils. He spotted the birds of paradise that he himself suggested and smiled with satisfaction and pride.  
As they were facing the water, Youngjae saw that a platform on stilts seemed to be floating on the tranquil and clear blue sea. Another canopy made of larkspurs and black dahlias was standing there, waiting for the couple. The flowers were sparkling as much as the sea was and it was such a beautiful sight that suddenly, he felt a swelling in his heart. His mother sensed his emotion and laid a hand on the back of his head. He leaned in, still taking in the beauty of his colored friends above the murmuring sea, realizing what this moment meant. Himchan and Yongguk were older than him, but none of them were kids anymore. They were old enough to love and wed.   
  
When he took a breath to calm his sudden emotions, he grimaced. The air felt dryer in his lungs. The sun shone stronger on the water, almost blinding him, but it only lasted a brief moment. He realized that everyone was looking at the entrance of the garden. Only the kids of the Night were still looking ahead. New guests were marching towards them, dressed in shiny gold, red and flame blue gowns. Looking at them was like eyeing the sun a bit too long and the young flower prince had to avert his eyes for a second.  They took place next to the forest people. Fairies’ wings fluttered anxiously, while nymphs started chatting animatedly among themselves. The heat became unbearable for a second, almost dizzying him, but it dissipated after a few seconds. He thanked the sea for helping him breathe again. Among them, Youngjae saw a tall kid, maybe around his age, maybe a slightly bit older, sitting next to what Youngjae guessed to be his father. A lean man with a severe and somber face. Youngjae blinked. The boy had soft features, oddly softer than his peers’, and full pinky brown lips, almost the color of rosewood. He had never seen such sun kissed skin and soft blonde hair; he felt almost dizzy again. That kid face was blank, although, unlike his father’s eyes, his were more agitated. Youngjae wondered what he thought of the flowers.   
Then, it struck him. He gasped, too loudly maybe because his father gave him a pointed look. He didn’t care. He had never seen the people from the kingdom past the last two olive trees. He stretched himself to see better and he wished he could maybe wave at this new kid that seemed so estranged and stressed.

Music started playing and the assembly’s attention went back to the sea and the couple that was arriving hand in hand. Yongguk was in a black gown, as black as his wavy hair, a stark contrast to the brightness of the sun, the yellow sand and pale blue gown of his soon-to-be husband. Even if he tried his hardest to bite on his tongue, Youngjae cheered for his friends who turned to him – he smiled at them and waved as if to encourage them. Yongguk laughed behind his hand, passing a nervous hand through his hair. Himchan waved back. His parents were about to say something to him, looking both appalled and exhausted.

“Look, they’re less stressed," he cut them off and it was true. His friends, although still nervous, were smiling, rather timidly, but still. It was an improvement.

When he looked to his left, he caught the sun kid staring at him with shock and maybe, yes maybe, a little bit of wonder – but not quite like it. That moment did not last long. The shy kid averted his eyes, confused, and Youngjae almost laughed. He did not expect the sun people to be so timid.

 

Youngjae did cry. He did, when dusk fell without a warning, only for a split second as soon as promises were made. The star powder that laid on petals glistened even more, dazzling him and the crowd. The water rejoiced underneath them, making waves, cautious not to drench the newlyweds in water – but did not seem to care one bit for the guests. Without a second thought, Youngjae teared up and sprinted to his friends. His parents did not yell nor admonish him – it would have been a sin to do so. Youngjae cried, maybe because the scenery took him by surprise, the dancing sea and the starry flowers in the dying sun, or maybe it was just joy for his two friends, but he cried, and he didn’t care when all his friends saw the tears. A flower fell from the canopy to offer her petals and Himchan wiped Youngjae’s tears away. It occurred to him that some of the powder must have fallen on the two lovers for they shone in the sea of people. They were gorgeous and happy. Youngjae thought that they could never need more than that.  
When dusk fell, almost leaning onto black night, and the water leaped and splashed them, he saw the sun king flinch and all the sun people as well, while the night kids smirked. It all happened so fast that he thought he dreamt it. As soon as Himchan and Yongguk kissed, the sun came back. Youngjae could have sworn that it came back hotter than before, but again, it could have been an impression.

 

The sun was still going strong when Youngjae deciced that after all the delicious wine and the hours of dancing, he needed a bit of alone time and fresh air. The reception took place in the castle and even though it was always cooler between the stones and near the sea, he suspected that the sun people rose the temperature by their presence. All of this made him too hot and out of breath, so he excused himself and announced he was going to walk a bit along the shore. He left the boisterous party, tiredness in his bones. Sometimes, when he was too drowsy, he did not control his own body; in a blink, he would find himself on four skinny legs. He hoped that the wine would not betray him.  
Canopies were still up in the air. He came closer to the flowers and sighed softly. He felt their weariness. Taking them down would take too much time and he did not trust his hands to let them go safely and gently by the sea – he found out once that flowers loved being carried by the water when they were exhausted. He wished he were sober. He inhaled their powdery smell and promised his friends he would take care of them. He heard them exhale. They knew he would.

“Are you okay," asked a voice behind him, startling him.

He turned around and was greeted by the Sun kid’s bashful smile. The boy seemed to glow under the sun, but less than his kind. His voice was rich and warm, and Youngjae felt a gentle heat in his blood.

“Don’t worry, I just had too much wine,” he assured while extending his hand. “I’m Youngjae, prince of the Flower kingdom.”

“I,” started the sun kid, eyeing his hand with caution. “I’m Daehyun. I’m the prince of the Sun kingdom.”

“Okay, now you should shake my hand It feels a bit lonely up there," joked Youngjae but Daehyun did not move.

“I’m sorry. I can’t touch people. I tend to burn them," Daehyun explained, not looking Youngjae in the eye.

“Oh…Well, that’s okay. Thank you for warning me then, I would still like to have my hand,” Youngjae laughed and he saw a faint smile cross the sun kid’s lips, he continued. “I didn’t see you dance, back there.”

“I don’t trust myself a lot around crowds. I told you, I tend to burn them," replied Daehyun gently, a bit of sadness tinged his voice and Youngjae almost asked him why but his own racing mind cut him off. Instead he said. "Hey, the night never falls were you live, right?”

Daehyun nodded, looking up to the sky. Dusk was now falling and it felt, in that moment, that the sun prince was sad.

“Actually, I’ve never seen a night sky. I haven’t even seen dusk. It’s beautiful.”

“How do you sleep, though, if it’s always sunny?” Asked Youngjae, dumbfounded.

“We might not have nights, but we have curtains,” Daehyun laughed lightly. “We make them thick to block the light from entering.”

He wanted to ask more question because he never spoke with a sun prince or kid, and he loved Daehyun’s warmth and plump lips. And as if something snapped in him, the sun prince stopped looking at the sky and said, in an almost panicked voice.

“Oh, no! The night!"

Youngjae wanted to reply, as he always did, but found himself mute. The sun kid left him on a shore, with dry lips and a clouded mind. He blamed the heat.

  
The party went on through the night, no trace of any tall and dry sun kids, and it was decided that all mortals would sleep in the castle. The rain engulfed the world, heavy and angry. And as always, on these dangerous nights, stars did not show and Junhong cried. Youngjae and Jongup spent the night with their friend until he fell asleep, flowers in his hair and moonlight caressing his cheeks.

 

Everyone knew about the all too powerful Sun king that was also a God. That the day was his and the night was the time of the rain.  Everyone knew about the Sun kingdom but no one was allowed to go there. It started where Youngjae’s ended, past the two olive trees he was not allowed to cross, where night died once and never came back. Youngjae heard too many terrible things about the weather. All the lands suffered through summers. But, at least, the other kingdoms still had rains, seas, and forests to soothe their heavy bodies full of burning light. It was said that rain never fell there, that the sea disappeared and flowers never bloomed. Ten years ago, Youngjae had learnt the story that his parents promised to tell him when the olive tree in their garden would gift them with its fruits. But he had asked the olive tree when it would be ready and the tree said that it was still too young, and that, maybe in five years, it would. Five years sounded like forever and Youngjae was not a patient kid.

“Why don’t we ever see them,” his ten-year-old self asked to the tulips once, after coming back from class and hearing about the stories of their kingdoms but never much about his neighbors. “We never talk to them. We don’t even know what they look like! Why?”

He asked the tulips because they never told lies and knew so many things. He suspected that all of their stories came from bees and butterflies that heard the ancient forest trees talk.

“It’s the mad king,” groaned a tulip. “He brought it on himself.”

Tulips had bloomed in April, that year, and they were chattier when they arrived early. Youngjae noticed the vehemence in the tulip’s tone. “Don’t you like the sun?”

A complain was heard from the Russian sage but the tulips shushed it. “It burns and never forgives.”

“But you need it to grow,” he had retorted.

“The mad king makes you thirsty and light-headed, it’s treacherous,” concluded another one with intensity.

They told him more. That once, months before he was born, the sun kingdom was not so much of a forbidden land. The kingdom past the olive trees even knew the taste of rains. Summer was a difficult season, but it never went without thunders on all kingdoms.  
Oddly, the Sun and the Rain fell in love. She would appease his outbursts and make flowers bloom. The people loved her. They loved her so much that the Sun felt threatened. He was a mad god, consumed by his own heat, and she saw that she could not save him. They had a son together and one night, she fled with him, not wanting to leave a child to his father’s madness.  However, the king was not stupid and he waited for her near the olive trees. There he took their son and forbid her from ever returning to his kingdom, or else, he would kill the child and burn the world. She turned to other gods for help, but they could not risk losing the sun. For as mad as he was, the world could not do without his light. The heartbroken goddess turned to her sister, the night sky, for protection and a place to rest. She took her in and allowed the rain to grieve every night.

“The night sky goddess swore she would not let the mad king ever rest,” pursued a rose with less bite than the tulips.

“So, this is why it only rains at night,” he understood and then shouted as he realized more. “So it’s true, only the Sun can kill other gods…But why would he take away their child if he’s willing to kill him?” 

“He’s not called the mad king for nothing, my dear,” replied a tulip. “This is why we’re better off without him. At least, here, we have water and night to rest.”

Youngjae had murmured. “But summer days are long and difficult, you said it yourself. What about the son? And the people here?”

The jasmine brushed his cheek to comfort him. “My young prince, there are things that are beyond our powers.”

That night, he stayed at his window and listened to the water. He listened to the goddess’ grief and mourned with her.

 

The next morning, the couple was off to visit Yongguk’s mother who could not attend the wedding due to the Sun’s presence. It was against the tradition, had said his father, but gods did not protest too much. Two angry gods among mortals in the same room was not a pretty sight.   
At dawn, a very tense Himchan barged in their room, waking him up. He was now pacing around and they could hear the angry sea outside. Youngjae had yawned and tucked a peace lily in his friend’s hair for good luck and protection. Jongup was on the bed, pretty much asleep and still cuddling a drowsy Junhong. 

“You know, you’re married, she's aware that you’re doing the do,” Youngjae teased.

“Fuck you, Yoo Youngjae,” shrieked Himchan. Jongup did not budge one bit. “I’m going to stay at the night sky goddess’ place.”

Youngjae shrugged. “So what, you’ve seen gods before. You’re married to one.”

“Yes,” Himchan before whining dramatically. “Yes, but it’s my mother-in-law. If she hates me, I’ll die. She can ask Junhong’s mother to choke me in my bed.”

Jongup laughed, and if they had not known him, they would have been startled. The moon god would always wake up at weird times and add his two cents.

“If she hated you, she would have killed you way before you ever touched his son, Himchan. Gods are prideful. She let you marry his oldest son so, really, you’re going to be okay.”

Himchan thankfully stopped walking and looked like he was letting Jongup’s words sink in. Youngjae glanced at his two friends. Junhong was trying his hardest to go back to sleep and Jongup looked like he did not even wake up.   
  
“Okay,” started Himchan. “But consider this: what if she starts hating me and kills me?”

Youngjae was about to speak and tell him to shut up, but Jongup acted faster than him. Himchan fell asleep but before he could touch the ground, a shiny light raised under him and carried him to their bed.

 _Gods,_ thought Youngjae with a fond smile. And he went back to sleep as well.

 

Summer days were long. Long, too long, as the world and the gods decided them to be. Youngjae was hiding under the high delicate jasmine that was fanning him. He listened to the birds chirping while the roses were arguing with the butterflies and the bees for being so inconsiderate. He heard the clematis sigh and complain about the roses’ dumb protests. A butterfly that had been kicked out of a rose came on his muzzle to rest from the battle. It was too hot to sleep and Youngjae started to wonder if he should have gone to the forest. Forest flowers were more peaceful than the ones here.

“They’re just doing their job,” the purple fountain grass yawned.

A rose puffed.

“Roses are as prideful as the mad king,” joked a cosmos.

“I met his son,” he blurted out, gazing at the blue sky. “His name is Daehyun.”

Silence fell on the gardens.

“Prince, you know how dangerous they are,” shouted a tulip, mortified.

He shook his head, making the butterfly fly away. “He was nice.”

“Youngjae, he’s the son of the Sun. Madness runs in this family.”

“Did he touch you”, questioned the Russian sage and he felt the jasmine inspect his fur. “Jasmine, was he touched by the son?”

Youngjae got up to escape this ridiculous inspection. “What, no! He warned me not to touch him.”

He heard them sigh in relief and sat down again, thinking. “He did not seem mad. I told you, he was nice, just…just very shy. He had a very nice voice, when he spoke. And pretty skin.”

“You’re curious, young prince,” remarked the Russian sage, softly. “And you’re too reckless. Please, think.”

He looked at the sky again as if he were to challenge the sun but averted his eyes quickly. He thought of Daehyun, his blonde hair kissed a million times by the sunlight.   
He snapped out of his reverie when he heard a rose fighting with a bee again. He wanted to see the sun prince. An irritated buzz near his ear made him jump. He smiled. Flowers would look good in his hair.

 

It was foolish, irresponsible even, but Youngjae could not stop thinking about the sun prince. It was stupid, oh, certainly stupid. He was not a kid anymore, would say his parents. His flowers had been so reluctant to oblige to his demand. But they could not refuse anything to their young prince, to his warm smiles and eyes, and he kissed them all until they all laughed.   
Youngjae was sitting under the trees, gazing at the sky. The morning was already warm but the olive trees were providing him shade. He asked himself what he was even doing, but then shrugged. He felt like he needed to. He heard the stories. He heard the sad night rains. He saw his sun kissed skin and hair. If Himchan was there, he would have probably knocked some sense into him, but his friend was away. All of his friends were away for the time being. 

“Do you think it will work,” had asked Youngjae, so impatient, too impatient. “Do you think the bee will make it to him?”

“You will see, young prince,” had said a daffodil.

So he waited where he said they could meet. He was there, a twenty-year old prince that curiousness had swallowed whole in his mother’s belly. Youngjae told himself that if it didn’t work, he would have tried and there was no shame in that.   
It felt hotter here, near the Sun kingdom; he could feel the power of the god. From where he was, he only saw dry and crackled land, bare of any grass. There were cacti, somewhere, but they were dying, he knew it. Even desert plants needed water and there was none there. It was weird seeing the clear separation between his bright green kingdom and the desolated Sun’s. He breathed. After all, he was making a diplomatic move. God, Youngjae felt suddenly stupid. Why would the sun prince come; they only talked for a few seconds.   
Youngjae looked at his hand then at the trees. Olive trees were not among talkative species, not like the oak trees or the tulips. He looked up at their branches; they did not even bloom. He got up and caressed their trunks. They were not very extroverted but so warm.

“You must be so lonely here,” he whispered. “I am so sorry.”

The trees hummed and he felt their sorrow. His heart ached; these trees had surely not bloomed in years.

“Are you okay?”

The voice made him jump. He almost fell but he quickly held on to the tree. He blinked back tears to see but he knew. He knew by the warm voice. By the bronzed glowing skin and the bashful smile.

“You came!”

Daehyun tilted his head to the sky, almost unsure of himself, clearly startled, then nodded. “Yes, I did.”

Fear washed over Youngjae and he looked at his hands and then to the sky.  Again, he felt stupid, and he almost wished that his friends were here. That the flowers did not surrender to him. Silence fell, heavy and dry, placating his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He could not blame the wine this time -  could maybe blame the heat again.

“What are we doing here?”

The question rose between them. He stared at his feet that led him here to the forbidden lands and realization dawn on him. This was dangerous.

Daehyun, voice a murmur but so clear in the silence,spoke. “God, I don’t know. It felt like I needed to come.”

He felt the trees humming again, harder. He blushed. They were right. They did not come all the way here to turn around. If Daehyun felt like he needed to come, Youngjae had felt like he needed to see him too. He breathed in and thanked the trees for being more sensible than him.

“On a scale of one to ten, how dangerous is it for you to be here with me?” Youngjae asked, finally looking up.

The sun prince looked at the sun, stared at it for a few seconds without even blinking –  Youngjae almost gasped before remembering that he was the Sun’s child.

“A solid twelve.”

Youngjae nodded. “Okay. Well then, better make the most of it before we get caught, right?”

 

At first, it was weird because Daehyun was shy and Youngjae had a hard time speaking too. Daehyun just stared at the trees and the grass and the river. They agreed upon not going too far – Daehyun needed to come back before night. He was used to chatting vividly with Himchan or speaking alone around his night friends, sometimes. But he knew them so he did not need a response.  
But, he did not know Daehyun. He wished he did, and that was their reason for being here, he, the prince of flowers sitting in the grass across the sun kid, caressing daisies. Suddenly, in the awe and the bright eyes of Daehyun, it came to him. This kid was alone. So alone. He did not know of the wet green grass and the singing river that only Jongup could understand. He did not know about this life, about the trees' shade and the smoothness of daisies.

“Explore,” he told him, breaking their silence.

Daehyun looked at him, stunned. He hesitated for a few seconds and Youngjae would not have been surprised to see him run away from here. But the kid rose to his feet and he went.   
Youngjae laid back in the grass and let the mad sun’s child go around. Regrets did not wash over him. Daisies kissed his cheeks. It felt right.

  
They did not know how and why the mad king had not find out yet what his son was up to almost every day, but they did not care. Not now. The first few days, they spoke very little, and Daehyun would look at everything. But he would not touch, letting his hands behind his back. Youngjae did not ask the first few times. He loved seeing those two wide eyes taking in as much as they could in the little hours that they’d spend together. Those two wide eyes, and his lips the color of the softest rose, in a perfect ‘o’ shape. It was pure and good. Little by little, Daehyun would speak. And then all of a sudden, he spoke a lot. He would ask the names of flowers and trees. He would ask for so many things – the smell of earth when it rained, how flowers grew and how bees worked. Youngjae himself learnt so many things – that Daehyun had a boisterous laugh that resonated through him. A beautiful, velvety voice that boomed and echoed in the forest. It was more brilliant than the sun and warmer than the soft spring light.   
Each and every day, they would go a little further. Each day was even more dangerous, but it felt right and it was all that mattered to Youngjae. It got him excited, made the nights so, so long. He would sit under the olive trees, he would feel his blood buzzing and his heart pump in such a loud voice that the trees would lightly mock him.  
He told the flowers about his days and the flowers listened in awe. He felt the roses blush when he described the sun prince to them.

  
One day, Youngjae blurted out something in a shy voice. “I need to show you my garden.”

Daehyun had stopped, looked at Youngjae as if he was crazy. But he came. He came with him, so far past the two olive trees and the forest. Youngjae had never felt more nervous in his life. Surely, if his parents caught him, he would never be able to go further than the kitchen for the remaining of his prince days. Daehyun did not stay silent. Again, he asked and asked, and Youngjae answered.  
After a good hour of walking in the suffocating heat – Daehyun did not seem to sweat a bit, which was not surprising, but it still amazed Youngjae – they finally arrived. Youngjae decided to hide behind the jasmine.

“It’s him, it’s him,” he heard them murmur.

The roses sighed. “He’s beautiful, it’s true.”

Youngjae glared at them, feeling embarrassed. When he turned to Daehyun, expecting him to smell and touch his friends, he saw him sitting, his hands resting on his knees. The flower prince frowned.

“Why don’t you touch them?”

Daehyun looked up to him and he replied, voice tainted with shame. “I told you, already.”

He was going to ask, because he clearly did not remember, until the sad voice and eyes brought him back to that day on the beach.

“Oh.”

Daehyun smiled faintly. “I would hate to hurt them. They’re so beautiful.”

Himchan always said that when Youngjae’s mind was set on something, he would not let that something go. He also said that it was an extremely annoying trait, but Youngjae called that perseverance.

“Who told you that you’d burn things?”

“I don’t just burn things, I,” Daehyun stammered. “I just…I burn the livings. I can’t control the heat. My father said that it was my mixed blood. That since I was not full blood, my powers were all over the place and confused.”

“What?”

Youngjae had not meant to drop this in such a mocking voice. Daehyun seemed hurt and he felt bad. He cleared his throat. “Excuse-me, but that does not make sense. There are many mixed gods and beings, and they’re doing just fine. It just means that you were not taught.”

Daehyun frowned. “No, I assure you that I burn things because that's how I am.”

Youngjae shook his head. “Yes, maybe now, but I told you, you were not properly taught.”

He felt that Daehyun did not believe his words, so he commanded. “Give me your hands.”

Daehyun looked terrified. “What, no! I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not going to hurt me, Daehyun, because you’re going to focus on not hurting me.” Youngjae said with such firmness that Daehyun blinked twice at him in disbelief.

“Why do you even trust me?”

Truth be told, Youngjae had no answer to that question. He looked at Daehyun, shy, terrified Daehyun.

“Because everyone should be able to feel the silky petals, the roughness of bark and the warmth of skin.”

He presented his hands to Daehyun with no hesitation. The Russian sage’s voice rose among the flowers to tell him not to be stupid but Youngjae did not listen to his friend. Daehyun was not going to hurt him, or maybe he would, but not on purpose. This boy had never touched flowers and trees. He held his hands for a few seconds but Daehyun did not move, eyes fixed on the grass. Impatience grew in Youngjae’s heart.

“Well, this is stupid.” He murmured before leaning in to take Daehyun’s hands.

“Youngjae,” yelled the flowers and Daehyun but before the sun kid could move, Youngjae had his hand on his.

The contact lasted for a brief second, it was almost like a brush, but Youngjae felt an excruciating pain as if he had played with a candle’s fire too much. Daehyun was on his feet, his hands in his hair, eyes cloudy with tears. Youngjae looked at his red palm. It was okay, he could not have been badly burnt, but it felt hot and painful still.

“Are you…are you completely mad,” Daehyun yelled. “I told you, I burn people. Gods, I’m so sorry!”

And like that, the sun kid fled through the garden.

 

Himchan blinked once, arms crossed. His silver hair looked white under the moonlight. His parents allowed him to go out at night when the three gods were with him since the Rain would not touch them.

“You did what?”

 Youngjae repeated and Himchan put his head in his hands. A loud sigh escaped the sea prince's lips to dance with the rain.

“Gods, I want to go back to your mom’s right now, Yongguk. It was more peaceful.”

“Hearing it the first time was already stupid, but you’re confirming it,” Yongguk finally said, all calm voice and dark, dark eyes.

Youngjae winced, and at the corner of his eye, he saw Junhong bite his lip. Jongup was playing with fireflies, bathing in his mother’s light.    
As quiet and peaceful as the son of the night sky goddess could be, angry Yongguk was as terrifying as the blackness of it. Youngjae felt like a child, as he always did when the couple was angry at him. He did not only have two parents, he also had Yongguk and Himchan. Sometimes, they were worse. Much worse.

“Did you try eating peyotes again while we were away,” asked Yongguk, cold tone and emotionless.

“What, no, it was only one time. I was fifteen and I didn’t know.”

“So, you don’t even have an excuse for trying to befriend the son of a clearly not very friendly God.”

“Technically, he’s your cousin right? You could refer to him as your cousin, it’d be clearer,” Youngjae pointed out with a small smile.

“Youngjae, I am not joking here. You don’t know what he’s capable of,” seethed Yongguk, making him shiver. His smile dropped instantly and he felt his shoulders drop.

“How is he,” asked Junhong, his voice vacillating. “Yongguk is the only one that saw him, when he was a child.”

“Junhong, now is not the time,” warned Yongguk, his voice so deep that Youngjae wondered if he could get lost in it.

“He was a kind child,” continued the star kid. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard from my mother.”

“Yes, he was,” Yongguk cut him off. “But we’re banned from seeing him. We promised.”

“Yes, our mothers promised to punish the Sun. Not the child,” objected Jongup.

Youngjae turned his head to his friend. At night, his eyes resembled those of a cat: the vertical slanted pupils, the glow under the light. The first time Youngjae saw it, it freaked him out a little bit, making Jongup laugh for days.  Sometimes, it still did, such as now, when his friend was looking at Yongguk with boldness.

 _Gods_ , thought Youngjae with a shudder.

Jongup shrugged and continued. “Youngjae, what you did was dangerous and thoughtless. You could have gotten yourself badly burnt or even killed. We don’t know how his father raised him and we don’t know what could happen if he ever finds out. You should have waited for us.”

“Jongup, this is even more stupid,” hissed Yongguk.

Suddenly, it felt like someone dropped a bucket of water on his head. He looked at the three gods in pure disbelief. His mother would kill him if he ever came back soaked to the bone.

Himchan took off his green silk vest and put it above his head. “Oh come on!”

His protest went unheard: the three gods were not listening to them. Jongup licked his lips and closed his eyes, turning his face towards the crying sky.

“Yongguk, it’s time that we listen to the rain,” said the moon’s son.

Tonight, the rain was not a silent murmur over the world. It was a heart-wrenching cry, a sadness that bordered on folly. Youngjae glanced at Himchan, not knowing if they should be running to find shelter. The rain was so dense that it coated his lashes and his vision was getting blurry.  
It might only have lasted thirty seconds before the gods remembered their presence and took pity on them.

“Enough,” said Yongguk, raising back the protection above them and kissing Himchan’s wet temples. He murmured something to his ear, possibly an excuse. “I’ve heard it.”

 

Wise Yongguk heard the rain and her cry. In reality, the night gods had been hearing the goddess cry for years, confessed Junhong who himself was born under a crying sky. And the crying sky was the first thing he ever heard. Night gods raised protection around them to shelter them from that suffocating song.   
Yes, Yongguk listened to the song they all tried to forget and his kind heart left his wisdom behind for once. Jongup sent a moth to the sun kingdom with a message in it.   
For three days, the Flower prince came under the olive trees and gazed at the forbidden land. For three days, the Sun prince did not come and Youngjae swore that his now healed hand would burn every time he got up to go back to his flowers that tended to his heavy heart and glossy eyes.   
For three nights, he dreamt of rosy lips and a blinding sun. He saw a sky that was too high and mocking clouds.

 _Gods_ , Youngjae would whisper after waking up, feeling empty and defeated.

On the fourth day, he went to the olive trees with a burning desire of touching that too dangerous sun kissed skin. He had dreamt of it on the third night and it plagued his mind. He went, with just a little bit of hope, only a flicker in his stomach. He sat in the shade of the trees, head against the trunk of the oldest one. The more he came, the more he felt them opening up to him. They asked him for little things, like bringing them new companions to see because they were lonely, too lonely there. Youngjae had obliged, planting seeds here and there and the trees' hearts throbbed with joy.   
On the fourth day, he planted Marigolds and Asters, those cheery little things that would entertain them.

“I will plant more as the year goes,” he promised the trees after wiping his muddy hands on his linen shorts. He sat on his heels, a satisfied smile dancing on his lips. “I want you to have friends every season. It’ll help you bloom.”

“That’s so sweet,” he heard a voice behind his back that made him fall on his butt. “Oh, sorry, I did not mean to frighten you! Are you okay?”

Youngjae got up and faced the sun kid, rubbing his sore butt. Standing in the sun, Daehyun seemed genuinely concerned but Youngjae waved it off. “Yes, yes, don’t worry. Gods, I thought the lands burnt the moth.”

“No, I got it. I…I hesitated. But I came today. I did not know if you’d be here.”

“My friend Himchan says that I’m more stubborn than the coldest of winters,” joked Youngjae. He took a glance at Daehyun’s lips and bit his. Daehyun had never seen a winter. “I wanted to say sorry, at least.”

Daehyun frowned. “Why? I’m the one that hurt you.”

Youngjae walked towards him until he reached the limit between the two kingdoms. He put his hands behind his back and shook his head. “No, I did too. I did not listen to you and made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”

The wind blew and made Daehyun’s hair dance under the light. He was beautiful, thought Youngjae. He was blushing but he did not care. The sun kid was radiating under his element, a softer glow than all of the other sun kids, and it made him more welcoming. Daehyun did not seem to notice, or maybe he did and said nothing.

“I have friends that can help you. They’re gods, so they’re much wiser than me,” said Youngjae.

Daehyun looked at the sky again and smiled. “Well, gods and wisdom don’t often meet. But I’m here right?”

With these words, the sun kid’s eyes left the sky and went from dry lands to soft grass. Youngjae heard the olive trees hum. Or maybe that was his heart, he did not know.

 

Patience was a word that Youngjae took a long time to understand. His parents would sigh in despair when they’d find their little boy, arms crossed in front of closed flowers, lecturing them for taking so long. But the flowers, oh the sweet flowers, never took offense. Only, those flowers would bloom weaker and sadder, shyer than most. They would die so fast, leaving behind them a heartbroken prince. It was his father that once sat with him in the garden, while his son was crying over dying roses.

“Be gentle, my son. No one grows well under too much pressure.”

Following his father’s advice, he grew kinder to the flowers and he saw them bloom, elegant and beautiful as they were meant to be. Still, patience was difficult for him to completely grasp. He got better but restlessness was in his nature.    
Seeing Daehyun bloom was a different story. They did not have much time, for Daehyun would always go home before the night came. He had expected some awkwardness at first between his friends and Daehyun. But they asked Daehyun many questions. How the mad king raised him – like a weirdly privileged prisoner, Daehyun said. And how he could so easily escape – the mad king mostly slept during days.

Himchan had replied, shocked. “But how can he shine so bright when he sleeps?”

Daehyun explained that the Sun needed rest to shine. Sure, he was a very powerful god, but nights were made for a reason. Thus, during days, the god entered a shallow sleep that let him shine while not taking too much power from him. Eventually, they had no more questions and they fell into silence.

Silent they were, until Daehyun asked. “How is she, my mother? How does she feel on your skin?”

Junhong had looked up, tears in his eyes. Jongup had sighed a sad sigh while Yongguk had gasped and if it were not for Himchan holding him, he would have gotten up to embrace that estranged family member. Gentle as only night gods could be, they told him everything. They told him that his mother only showed at nights to mourn her loss. They told him that all the night kids grew up knowing his name and the story, that they grew up resenting the mad king. Daehyun drank their words like a flower drinking in the midnight rain after too many hours in the sun. This conversation had been hard, on all of them. When Daehyun parted with them that first day, the three gods had said to their mortal friends that they’d stay near the olive trees to watch over him. Himchan had kissed his husband without a word.

“Why don’t we stay with them,” had asked Youngjae while they were hurrying to go home.

“I don’t think we can, tonight.”

Himchan slept with him, that night. Their three gods came back early in the morning, soaking wet.

 _Gods,_  had thought a sleepy Youngjae.

 

Daehyun kept coming to the olive trees almost every day and they would march to meet their friends. They trained him, that grown but young god. It was hard at first, watching him lose faith whenever he burnt one of the gods.

“You’re the son of the sun, but you’re also the son of the rain. You need to conciliate these two parts. You have to take his warmth, and take her gentleness,” Junhong reminded Daehyun once to encourage him.

Thus they continued, under the eyes of two mortal princes. Youngjae felt powerless. He wished he could comfort the Sun prince.

“Remember, Youngjae, we’re not that different from flowers,” whispered Himchan to appease his pounding heart.

He was right, would think Youngjae. He would let Himchan rub his back, not taking his eyes off of the glowing god that tried and cried a few times. But it was hard watching him and not being able to wipe the tears away.

 

It took weeks of meeting the Sun prince before he could touch any living things. First, he touched a butterfly, or to be precise, a butterfly came to him while he was sitting and talking with his friends. The flying little thing, too tired from its trip, chose to land on the sun kissed skin. At first, no one noticed. Until Jongup, who had been in a deep sleep the whole time, had cracked an eye open.

“A butterfly is on your shoulder, Daehyun.”

Next, it was a tree that prevented him from falling – Youngjae had seen his friend trip and asked the tree to move fast.   
It happened, more and more. Yongguk forgetting himself and taping his cousin’s shoulder, laughing. Jongup taking his hands to dance in the sun. Junhong gifting him a bracelet made of little fragments of stars and putting it around his ankle, so that the mad king could not see it. The first time Daehyun discovered that Youngjae could turn into a fawn, he clearly did not expect it. Youngjae had been so sleepy that day and he turned into a fawn in a yawn. The god had jumped and took Himchan’s arm as if to hide himself.   
Daehyun was blooming right before his eyes, and he had the brightness of his father, the roundness of his mother, and both of their power. Youngjae felt happy, even privileged, to witness such a beautiful spectacle. Daehyun was eating the world whole, touching and feeling things as if they were his. Yet, to Youngjae’s dismay, Daehyun would still not touch flowers nor him. It left bitterness and almost jealousy on the tip of his tongue.   
He still dreamt of rosy lips, bright hair and a sky that was out of reach.

 

“You love him.”

Youngjae’s head snapped and he felt the flower crown he was braiding become heavy in his hands. There was no mockery in Himchan’s fond eyes. He felt himself blush so he focused his attention on his crown. Daehyun was playing in the river with the three other gods, while Himchan and him were bathing in the autumn sun. 

“Am I so obvious?” He finally asked. There was no point in hiding the truth to Himchan. The sea prince would find it, for he was accustomed to deep waters.

“I don’t know if you are. But to me, you are like your flowers,” said Himchan with a knowing smile. Daehyun’s laugh bounced on the waters and the stones, making Youngjae look up from his flowers to search for the god. “You’re drawn to his light.”

Youngjae looked at the smoothness of the god’s skin and tears welled up in his eyes. “Gods, I wish I could touch him, Himchan.”

His friend took him in his arms and he cried in silence.

 

“My father is starting to act suspicious,” announced Daehyun on a chilly autumn day, biting his lip.

Youngjae’s heart stopped for a second. He dropped the rose he was holding before picking it up and kissing its petals. That day, he decided to walk back with Daehyun. Jongup came with them in case the night would surprise them.

The god frowned. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. He came to my room this morning and asked me if I ever thought of my mother. He was angry, well, I mean, more than usual. He never asked me this.”

After that, they did not talk to each other. Youngjae held back his tears and pressed the rose to his nose. The powdery smell calmed him down but his pace slowed down. The two gods marched ahead, too fast for the worrying prince. He felt a pain his chest, pressing down on his heart.   
When they arrived at the border, Youngjae averted his eyes when Jongup hugged Daehyun goodbye and told him to be careful.

“You said you had birds, right?”

“Yes, birds still come to us. But I don’t think…”

Jongup cut him off. “If needed, talk to one and send it to us. You learnt how to do it, Daehyun. Trust yourself.”

“Okay Jongup,” promised the Sun prince.

Youngjae leaned against the youngest olive tree. It was building inside him; the trees felt it and were trying to reason with him. The two gods parted and Jongup raised an eyebrow at him.

“Goodbye Youngjae,” said Daehyung waving at him with a shy smile.

“Goodbye, Daehyun.”

He looked at his side to be met by Jongup’s absence. Gods were annoying. Daehyun frowned.

“Are you okay?”

“Why,” started Youngjae. He felt thorns on his tongue. “Why do you go back there?”

Daehyun took a step back. “What are you even trying to say, Youngjae?”

“Why do you always leave me before the night falls. Don’t you miss your mother?”

Youngjae looked around. Where was the moon’s child when he was needed and why would he fall in love with that too blinding god? He felt the weight in his chest and his stomach and on his eyes.

“You’re being senseless, Youngjae.”

“Then stay here. Stay and let her come to us. Why don’t you," spat Youngjae.

Daehyun’s eyes were fiery and if Youngjae had not his mind clouded by anger, he would have feared this powerful god. Maybe he should fear him, thought Youngjae. Maybe he should fear this too loud voice that resonated in his own throat, the blonde hair made of golden sun that Youngjae could not crown with these ridiculous flowers that he chose and braided with Daehyun in mind.

“I should go, Youngjae. The night is dangerous.”

And like that, Daehyun went. Yes, maybe he should fear a god that left his yearning heart to burn.

 

Autumn was dragging on, painfully. Among the scattered leaves, he wished for the winter cold to come faster, engulf his heart and tame the flames that burned him under his skin. He wished for the winter goddess to visit him again on his birthday, kiss him on his eyelids and maybe turn him into the vine that spread on the castle’s left side. Flowers would try their best to soothe his pain but he was a stubborn child even in sadness. If only he was not that stubborn when it came to love.

 

He did not see Daehyun for days. Himchan had asked if Youngjae wanted them not to see him as well, but it would have been selfish of him so he assured them that it was okay. He spent his days in the comfort of his room, fleeing the ever present sun during days and the sad rain at nights.   
His friends would visit him, not uttering a word about Daehyun. But he was lingering on their skin and their mind and he would suffer, still, in the privacy of his room.

 _Gods_ , Youngjae thought with anger.

 

“Son, the flowers are worried. Your friends too.”

It was his mother. He did not look up from his book. He hoped she would leave him alone but she was as stubborn as he was and she sat on his bed.

“I know you’ve been seeing the Sun prince, Youngjae.”

His breath itched and he looked at her with apprehension.  He could not even lie now. She laughed, her hair moving around her face.

“Oh, do you really think you could count on the tulips?”

He rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath. Gods, he should have known; tulips were easily bribed.

“Listen, I’m not seeing him anymore, so you don’t need to come and tell me that I’m a dumbass.”

She laughed again before scooting over and lying with him on his bed. “I could have acted a long time ago, my winter rose,” she pointed out, stroking his hair. “But yes, you’re a little bit of a dumbass.”

The book slipped from his hands and landed on his stomach.

“Why are you not mad at me?”

“I was,” she admitted. She smelled of fresh cut grass and mint. “Your father and I were worried, Youngjae. You heard the stories and they’re all true. I remember the first night it rained on us. Gods, I truly thought she was going to drown the world.”

The crackling fire in his room was warming him, but his hands felt cold. His mother knew and took them in her warm hands before blowing on them. He leant in and rested his head on hers. Oh, such a child he was.

“The flowers and the trees told me everything. By the way, the olive trees are feeling less lonely. It was a sweet gesture.” She added in the quietness of the room and he blushed.

She knew everything, she said and Youngjae did not doubt her. In fact, he was thankful that he did not have to speak and voice his feelings.   
They stayed like that, mother and son, the warmth of her enveloping him, almost lulling him to sleep.

“But I would mourn too, if I ever lost you,” continued her mother. Her voice sounded breathy.

“Would you miss me,” he dared ask in a semi sleeping state.

“Who would not, Youngjae?”

 

He went the next morning to the garden and the Russian sage almost whipped him when he approached. They worried for their little prince and they did not forgive him until after a week of visiting them every day for hours.   
Then, after a week, they would let him drink from them when he was too lazy to go back to his home, and shelter him when the thought of Daehyun took over him.

“He misses you, prince,” they would say to him.

How could they know.

 

He returned to his friends without explanations. They made no remark. It was useless because they figured it out by themselves.

Himchan had ruffled his hair with a sigh. “You’re such a kid, sometimes. You’re driving me mad.”

No one spoke of Daehyun. They did not smell of him, that day. No they did not, and Youngjae shivered.

 

Youngjae was coming back from a chilly but sunny afternoon by the beach. His friends had wanted to stay the night outside but Youngjae resigned, feeling too tired. The sea air had this effect on him. Junhong asked him if he wanted company but Youngjae declined.

“It’s okay,” he assured, his hands inside his pockets. “If I go now, I’ll get home before the night.”

After saying goodbye, he went back home. He put his hands in his pockets, burying his nose in his big, too big yellow scarf that his father made for him. He regretted only wearing a jumper. From the sea kingdom to his, there was only an hour and a half walk. They lived in a tiny world, he thought to himself. His mind wandered for the remaining of his trip. Kingdoms were all close to each other, merely hours from one another, and they could go from lands to lands without a worry. He started thinking of his mothers' words - they were all part of this world. Maybe that was why the gods made their world like this. But they did not think of the pride of others and the consequences, these gods.   
When he finally arrived, the sun was fading away in pinks and oranges, mirroring the ground covered in dead leaves. He passed through the village, greeting anyone that passed him bye. The town always was a charming sight. The houses made of wood and stones would be decorated with the plants of the season; garlands of beauty berries and Judas tree leaves hanged on doors. Little gardens displayed cotoneasters that gave a show of beautiful red berries.   
Each house had his own garden by rule, and they would all show the owner’s preferences. But the castle’s one was the biggest and brightest, always evolving through the seasons and the years. In autumn, the Japanese maples exhibited beautiful bright red leaves that could make fire pale in comparison. The sight was even more magical under a bright pink sky.

Youngjae hurried. He wanted to read a book and snuggle his dog in front of the living room’s fireplace. But he was a curious man and when he heard the giggles of flowers, he wanted to check what was going on there.   
He cursed himself and the wind before heading in the flowers’ direction. It seemed to come from the Chinese bellflowers and celosias. These ones were the chattiest of all autumn flowers and always detained extremely interesting gossips and stories – they were closest to the villagers. Maybe they had a funny story to tell him before going back home. He still had a bit of time before the night. 

But, crouching near the flowers was a glowing silhouette. It did not take long to recognize him.

“What the hell are you doing in my garden?”

Daehyun jumped and got up on his feet. His hair looked almost pink under the dying sun. Youngjae breathed in the cold air too fast and it felt like chewing on mint.

“Hi, Youngjae,” Daehyun greeted him, his bashful smile on display and it made Youngjae both mad and so, so in love.

“What are you doing here,” he repeated with less spite than he wished to.

Daehyun looked down for a second before replying. “I don’t know, I wanted to see you.”

“Okay, goodbye Daehyun,” said Youngjae without moving.

“The sun is setting,” pointed out Daehyun, raising his head towards the sky, exposing the skin of his throat.

He was too gorgeous, too gorgeous and Youngjae had to focus not to look away from him and hold his glare. But then he noticed the declining sun.

“Daehyun, you need to go now,” he reminded him, a little bit worried.

“Yongguk showed me how to go back faster to my home, it’s okay,” assured Daehyun looking back at him. “We have time to talk.”

“You should go now. I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Don’t talk then. I will.”

Youngjae debated but Daehyun was a god. A god made of maddening sun and strong rain, and if he wanted him to stay in place he could. Youngjae cursed himself. Who was he fooling. Daehyun’s words sounded like a plea, despite his steady voice.

“I have lived my whole life in a dead kingdom. I grew up alone in blinding light, wandering through lands that could not breathe anymore. My own people survive on little food that we buy from your kingdoms,” started Daehyun, calmly. “They adapted to the harsh weather by building their homes under the sad thirsty earth. My father rules a desert that even mirages don’t grace. He burns and hates the living. He tried to love me, maybe. I grew up with an absent father that was everywhere at the same time.”

The more Daehyun spoke, the more remorse bit Youngjae’s tongue. Daehyun was doing his hardest to keep his voice from vacillating. The chilly wind made him shudder.

“I was mocked and humiliated by my peers for having my mother’s soft features. I have no memory of her, I just know that I get my lips from her and that water likes me,” Daehyun’s voice was now wavering but he was determined to speak. “I fear my father as much as you all do, Youngjae. I’m a child with a lot of fears. I fear my father. I fear the day I’ll meet my mother again because, what if she does not recognize her child? What if she lost me completely after what he did? Junhong said that my father tried erasing any traces of rain in me. It’s true, I was raised to burn and devastate. Even things and people I loved.”

Shame rose in Youngjae’s belly, went up to color his cheeks. Inside, he always knew.

“But you can touch them, now. You can touch the forest and the sea creatures, you can touch them,” Youngjae accused him, pointing his finger towards him. “Himchan, and Junhong, Jongup and Yongguk. Hell, you can touch the whole world. But not me, not flowers.”

He knew it was presumptuous of him, childish and selfish, but it hurt. Daehyun looked at the sky for a second before looking back at him.

“I loved seeing you make flower crowns,” Daehyun said with a soul eating grin. “I loved seeing you choose your flowers, and I would watch how gentle you were with them. I wanted you to teach me, so badly. I wanted you to crown me. I wanted to crown you too.”

A murmur rose among the flowers, a sort of shy giggle, a knowing one. And Youngjae looked down at them with a puzzling look but his attention went back to Daehyun immediately when he saw movement. He did not see him move, a damn god thing. They were so close now that Youngjae felt the heat from Daehyun’s skin.

“But I couldn’t right, because I was too afraid to burn you again, like I’ve already done. So I came back, almost every day, with Yongguk or Jongup or Junhong. I also came alone. Your mother saw me once, and she helped me. She has a lot of fire in her, your mother. She’s a summer child, right?”

Youngjae nodded, frozen in place. He wasn't understanding anything.

“It took time, you know. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever tried to do, touching the flowers. I did not trust myself,” confessed Daehyun. “They are so delicate and dainty, beautiful and fragile. But so vivid and frankly, at times, hilarious. They told me so much about you, I’ll always be thankful to them.”

“Daehyun,” Youngjae cut him off and looked at the sky. “Daehyun, it’s getting dark now.”

“I know,” Daehyun said, as if he was trying to overcome something all at once. “But look Youngjae, I made one.”

“You made what?”

The night falling on them made him so anxious that he didn’t see Daehyun approaching him again. No, he did not see but he felt the smoothness of petals under his nose and a delicate smell, so he looked down, surprised. Daehyun was holding a flower crown in his hand, eyes intently watching him. His first reaction was to take a step back, stammering words. No, stammering sounds that would form words if Youngjae’s heart stopped beating in his throat, making it hard to breathe.  
The flowers stopped breathing as well. It took him too many seconds to understand what Daehyun was trying to do because damn gods. Damn them and their transcending smiles made of the purest light. Damn them and their sad stories and madness, their battles of power and them turning their backs on a childless mother. Damn him and his smooth skin and blinding smile. Daehyun placed the crown on his head. Nothing happened.

“Are you okay,” asked Daehyun after a moment, a bit concerned.

The air was getting so humid.

“Gods,” sighed Youngjae, snapping out of his trance, tears in his eyes. “Gods are so stupid.”

Daehyun laughed that ridiculously loud laugh, and it felt like he had to drink this laugh in. So he did, he kissed him. He was so thirsty, from his long walk and being in the sun’s son presence. He was the Prince of Flowers, and flowers drank in the dazzling sun and then the rain when it came to deliver them.

The night fell and the rain came. It came and it drenched the god and the prince that stopped kissing to look at the sky expectantly. Youngjae held Daehyun’s hands close to his mouth. In the dark and the silence, among curious flowers and beating hearts, she came. She had Daehyun’s lips and cheeks, she had his wide eyes of shock. Youngjae let go of his hands, his warm, warm hands. But the warmth did not leave him.

 _Gods_ , he whispered with love.

 

Powerful was the shining god, but lonely, oh so lonely. Loathed and resented from his own kin to his own kind. So, as powerful as he was, he battled alone, against gods and mortals that missed the sunny days where thunder would make them run to find shelter, when the dark rainy nights where also synonymous of joy.  He lost, to the united gods and mortals. He lost to his own powerful son, too powerful son. Thus, the king decided to take his own life, laughing and cursing the world, promising them darkness and death, for he was the only one that could kill a god. But in his madness and hunt for power, he forgot that his enemy was also his son. And the following day, a new Sun rose again.

 

Daehyun woke him up, kissing his back. It was so early, but early mornings were his daily life now that he married the Sun god.  Daehyun kissed his eyelids.

“You’re sad, my love,” whispered the Sun softly, kissing his lips again.

Youngjae opened his eyes, adjusting to the light. His eyes were still sensitive from the night of mourning.

“I will miss my mother,” he stated, and he felt the heaviness of a devastated heart in his chest. Marrying a god meant eternal life but losses as well.

“Do you want me to bring Himchan,” Daehyun asked concerned while stroking his cheek.

He closed his eyes again at the touch.

“Yes, I think he’ll understand. But not now, please, stay with me.”

Youngjae opened his eyes to catch warm lips. He was grateful for Daehyun’s presence because, when he was cold from sadness and tears, when the rain fell in him and on him, Daehyun kept him warm.

“I could ask the gods of death to let her come back to you,” Daehyun said, breaking the kiss and looking in his eyes for an answer.

Years before, when the King of Flowers passed away on a spring day among his favorite flowers, Daehyun had told him the same thing, but Youngjae had refused. Not because he did not believe in Daehyun to make his wish come true, oh no, strong and fierce Daehyun would make the death gods breathe life again in his parents' bones.

“No, Daehyun. You know why. You know that I won’t die, so I won’t serve my flowers as I should be.”

“But you brought them a nicer Sun and the rain during days,” protested Daehyun with a frown.

“Yes, maybe that’s why they do not mind,” Youngjae said. “But it is an honor for us to serve them in death. I will miss her, but I will let my mother serve her summer friends. I think...I think I will make flowers in her honor. Big yellow flowers that turn towards the sun. Towards you. She will look at them. Who know, my father sometimes comes to me in my spring dreams, perharps she will do the same in summers.”

Respecting his wishes, Daehyun nodded and kissed his temple.

“Are you okay, Youngjae?”

“Not now,” he replied. Daehyun looked at him, his golden hair falling in his eyes. Concern and fondness where lightning his eyes and Youngjae smiled.  The room smelled of them – of heat and skin, of earth and lilies. “But I will.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> As I said, I haven't written anything in a long time. It is also my very first time writing in English so if there are a lot of mistakes, please excuse me. If you even feel like correcting me, go ahead, I don't mind.  
> But I wanted to write this for my kids and for myself, a little bit.  
> Some things were left vague for a reason. 
> 
> Twitter: [ @cinnamomroIl](https://twitter.com/CinnamomroIl) .  
> Curiouscat: [here!](https://curiouscat.me/cinnamomroll).
> 
> PS : again, thank you so much for reading. It's my first writing in almost two years so I'm a little bit nervous to put it out there. ♡


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